pon me.
The sparkling brilliancy of Julia's style reminded me of the charms of
her conversational powers, aided by all the loveliness of her beauty,
and all that witchery which your true belle of fashion knows how, so
successfully, to spread around her; and it was with a flush of
burning shame on my cheek I acknowledged to myself how much her
letter interested me. As I continued, I saw O'Grady*s name, and to my
astonishment found the following:--

'Lady Charlotte came back from the duke's ball greatly pleased with a
certain Major of dragoons, who, among his other excellent qualities,
turns out to be a friend of yours. This estimable person, whose name is
O'Grady, has done much to dissipate her ladyship's prejudices regarding
Irishmen--the repose of his manner, and the quiet, unassuming, well-bred
tone of his address being all so opposed to her preconceived notions of
his countrymen. He dines here twice or thrice a week, and as he is to
sail soon, may happily preserve the bloom of his reputation to the last.
My estimate of him is somewhat different. I think him a bold _effronte_
kind of person, esteeming himself very highly, and thinking little
of other people. He has, however, a delightful old thing, his servant
Corny, whom I am never tired of, and shall really miss much when he
leaves us.

'Now as to yourself, dear cousin, what mean all the secret hints and sly
looks and doubtful speeches about you here! The mysteries of Udolpho are
plain reading compared to your doings. Her ladyship never speaks of
you but as "that poor boy," accompanying the epithet with the sigh with
which one speaks of a shipwreck. Sir George calls you John, which shows
he is not quite satisfied about you; and, in fact, I begin to suspect
you must have become a United Irishman, with "a lady in the case." Yet
even this would scarcely demand one half the reserve and caution with
which you are mentioned. Am I indiscreet in saying that I don't think De
Vere likes you? The Major, however, certainly does; and his presence has
banished the lordling, for which, really, I owe him gratitude.'

The letter concluded by saying that my mother had desired her to write
in her place, as she was suffering from one of her nervous headaches,
which only permitted her to go to the exhibition at Somerset House; my
father, too, was at Woolwich on some military business, and had no time
for anything save to promise to write soon; and that she herself, being
disappointed